I was doing an Internet search for social help when I came across a list of symptoms for Asperger's Syndrome. I related to quite a few of them, especially the ones that concerned social awkwardness. As a child, I was labeled as "shy." I didn't want to be shy; but even when I tried my best to be friendly and nice, people still viewed me in that way. Even so, as a young child, I was able to make friends through mutual interests of playing dolls, skipping rope, hopscotching, etc. One on one, I did okay, but when there were other people and it became more like "girls hanging out," (Slumber parties were the worst) I completely clammed up. I wanted to be part of their group, but was always an outsider. I hung onto childish games/dolls far longer than most girls, possibly because there was safety in them.
It started to become more difficult in junior high, when social skills played a more important role in making/maintaining friendships. One childhood friend remained close to me during these years, but all of my other "friends" were really only acquaintances -- people who talked to me during school. Whenever it came time to break up into class groups, I was always the one left without a partner. I remember several times when this was painfully brought to my attention by other classmates or teachers. One teacher asked me, in front of the entire classroom, "Kiki, don't you have any friends?" My best friend was a social butterfly who easily befriended everyone she met. She tried including me when she hung out with them, but I was always so awkward that they wondered why she would hang around with someone like me. I tried to fit in with them, but could never quite figure out what they wanted from me -- why I wasn't one of them. I was always nice and polite, but it just wasn't enough.
By high school, my best friend and I had become strangers. I made other friends and aquaintances with people who were content to hang around with me, because they viewed me as a nice person. Niceness had always been my saving grace. It was the one thing that I valued about myself, but I longed for the social ease that everyone else seemed to take for granted. Niceness followed rules of politeness, empathy, kindness, and compassion. I genuinely did feel these emotions, but when there were no rules for how to react to people, I seemed to flounder.
I had a few non-serious boyfriends during high school, but I had always been in love with one guy in particular, to the point of obsessing over him. When we finally got together, he soon professed his love for me, while acknowledging the fact that I was still shy around him. After several months, he was forced to move over a thousand miles away. Needless to say, the long distance relationship ended. I was devastated and knew for an absolute fact that I would never love again. I dated a few guys, and ended up marrying one, mainly because I felt comfortable around him, even though we were completely unsuited for one another. He was a simple person, who didn't seem to feel the need to analyze me to death. He wanted a woman, and I was a female, simple as that. I took the easy route and replaced happiness with comfort.
I had difficulty relating to my husband's family, though. They all thought of me as a complete odd-ball, whispering, and giggling in my presence; gossiping, behind my back. Again, I thought I was being nice and polite to them, but it was never enough. Their social conventions required something that was foreign to me. At work, I had trouble getting past politeness and efficiency. I dreaded the moments of down-time, when there was no structure, and women (mostly) were chatting in cliques. Sometimes, I would be politely included, but I could always sense their quizzical expressions.
Over the years, I have become quite used to the looks that seem to say, "What's wrong with her?" I can feel my deficiency, in social situations, but can never change myself. It's as if I'm trying to dance, but can never find the beat.
Once I started having children, I became a stay-at-home mother. I felt competely relieved not to have to face uncomfortable social situations on a daily basis any longer, yet I also felt at a complete loss for what to do with an entire day full of unstructured hours. I had always been the type of person who could do a job well, if given instructions; but I was never good at making the blueprint myself.
As an adult, I made aquaintances, here and there, but never found anyone who would call me a friend, even though I offered people help if they ever needed it. Everyone seemed to sense that something was wrong with me, and instantly knew that I had no friends. It never really bothered me much, except for times when it would have been nice to call up a friend, such as when I found out I was pregnant. I remember being elated and wanting to pick up the phone to call someone, but there was no one.
Over the years, I have read countless books on overcoming shyness. When I try to implement the lessons, though, I'm left feeling worse than before I tried. It seems like the harder I try, the more people think I'm strange. The quality that I once valued about myself, niceness, has now become twisted. As an adult, it doesn't seem to be received in the same way as it did when I was a child. It's as if the rules have been changed. Now, I hear women whispering about me being fake. This also leads to my feeling that the world doesn't want to accept me for the person I am, yet they accuse me of being fake when I try to change to fit in with society.
I am now in my thirties. My children are getting older, so I've been forced into social situations on a regular basis, with ball games, swimming classes, dance classes, etc. Each time I'm introduced to a new group, I vow that I will try my hardest to make friends with them. Sometimes, I think I'm being successful and have actually started to make friends, but then I find these women breaking up into cliques before my eyes, arranging play dates, shopping sprees, dinner invitations, telephone conversations, without including me. In a way, it's a relief to me, because I do value my space. At this point, I don't even know what I would do with a real friend, who would come by all the time. The one thing I do worry about, though, is the fact that my children will think of me as a loser, without any friends.
I don't know if I do have Asperger's. There are a few topics of conversation that interest me, some would say obsessively, more than others; but I am capable of talking about other things. I also noticed that in some of your posts, you mentioned that you don't like to be touched. I'm the exact opposite. I am still married to my husband, so I'm able to get affection from him, and I've also been very affectionate with my children. One thing that I find the most difficult, socially, is humor. I have a terrible time laughing at people's jokes, as part of a conversation, except for my family members. It's not that I don't have a sense of humor. I love to laugh at good comedy on television or comedy clubs. It's just that I seem to miss a beat, when it's inserted into a conversation, with aquaintances, most of the time. I try to "fake it," but people can always tell when I'm not sincerely laughing at their jokes. I also seem incapable of that back and forth teasing thing that people do with each other. I'm different with my family members. It's like I've become accustomed to their humor and know how to play that game, if that makes any sense.
Maybe some of you will be able to relate to parts of my story. I hope to hear your comments.
Last edited by kiki3 on 01 Apr 2007, 7:20 pm, edited 3 times in total.
01 Apr 2007, 6:29 pm
My daughter loves to say, "Yay, me!"
